


Sharer of Secrets

by deathwailart



Series: Ghillie Lavellan [4]
Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Backstory, Dalish, Fluff, M/M, Sharing a Bed, Traditions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-28
Updated: 2014-12-28
Packaged: 2018-03-04 00:17:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,461
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2900021
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deathwailart/pseuds/deathwailart
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dorian asks about what Ghillie was like when he was younger when they share a tent together before he takes an opportunity to ask as much as he can about Dalish life and Ghillie is only too happy to oblige.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sharer of Secrets

"Still feeling the cold?" Ghillie teases as they bed down at camp for the night.  
  
"I'll catch my death here, I don't know how you southerners stand it." Dorian even sniffs for dramatic effect and Ghillie laughs, giving him a shove as he squirms under the blankets with him.  
  
"I'm not actually a southerner you know, my clan wandered the Free Marches, mostly the north." He pauses to consider if they went elsewhere but that's what he remembers, roaming endlessly and always being by the Keeper's side after a certain age. "But then I was probably much more outdoorsy than you, even if I wasn't a hunter."  
  
"What were you like as a boy?" Dorian asks as Ghillie makes himself comfortable, head on the man's chest as Dorian idly runs his fingers through his hair, listening to the wind whipping at the tents and the muffled chat of the scouts on watch. By now they've worked out how best for Ghillie to be a living, breathing blanket whilst keeping his pointy elbows and knees to himself.  
  
"I remember the phrase 'holy terror' being bandied around rather a lot," Ghillie admits with a grin, definitely _not_ purring (he did it _once_ in front of Varric, he should have listened to Cassandra about the dwarf and his tales because he's been teased about it ever since) when Dorian chuckles and brushes a hand across the stubble above his left ear that's growing longer again. He'll need to shave it when he finds a moment. "My mother distinctly told me once that if the Dread Wolf himself came to carry me off, she'd thank him and feed him my dinner too."  
  
"You? I'm _shocked_ , what would the people say?" It's always good to laugh with Dorian; laughter has been absent enough of late but he has the feeling that there's never been enough laughter in Dorian's life that wasn't of his own making.  
  
"I'm sure it'd be something about a heathen Dalish."  
  
"Will you indulge me? Stories about your boyhood capering around the wilds?"  
  
"It's not going to be very romantic you know – not that I was a hunter though one of my closest friends was and the stories she'd tell you..."  
  
"Dreadful stories?"  
  
"Tramping around for days after bears or deer, in all weathers. She used to come back to see Badb and I – Badb is the Second, well, I suppose she's First now," he pauses for a moment, trying to think of Badb as First, proud and argumentative, looking to the future and not caring for tradition and the old ways as much. Her and Solas would get on well, he thinks, she always wanted someone to talk to about spirits. "Once she fell in a bog and pounced on us when she got back, the _smell_."  
  
Dorian laughs, awkwardly leaning down to kiss the top of Ghillie's head and Ghillie grins, settling himself a little more comfortably as he tries to remember a good story.  
  
"I don't remember that much before my magic manifested, I was only five. I was lucky – you know we can't have too many mages in one clan?" Dorian nods and Ghillie thinks for a moment of poor Minaeve before he blinks it away. "When my magic manifested I set fire to part of an aravel and I remember thinking it was the most trouble I was ever about to be in and I tried to run off but suddenly the Keeper swooped in and said it was time to be trained. I had no idea what that even meant at the time."  
  
"Do you really send them off into the wilds?"  
  
"I can't remember that happening with us, some clans do I suppose the same as some clans wouldn't think to let the flat-ears-"  
  
"Flat-ears?"  
  
"City elves, the ones who leave to come and find us."  
  
"Some clans wouldn't let them join their people?"  
  
"A lot of clans think they've been around shem for too long, they don't remember who they are or what they are. We had a few join us, I suppose it depends on where you are but my clan never actually settled long enough in one place, not long enough really for people to make up their minds about leaving for a life they don't know. It's a big change, to give up your home."  
  
"It is." Dorian's voice is soft and Ghillie reaches for his hand to squeeze. Neither of them will understand what it's like for a city elf but Dorian probably comes closer than Ghillie does, leaving somewhere that's awful and hurts you but somewhere that is home and family, places and things that you still love, somewhere that might one day be better if you work hard enough. After all, Dorian is going to go back when this is over, he's going to try to fix things and Ghillie understands that as much as he simply doesn't want to think about after and not being able to see Dorian and laugh with him. About all the nights when they sit up late and share dinner, discussing books and reports until the small hours. He doesn't want to think about not being able to take Dorian by the hand to lead him up to his room where he can kiss him until they're both dizzy and smiling stupidly.  
  
"So, little baby Ghillie?" Dorian prompts, prodding Ghillie with a finger to rouse him from his thoughts.  
  
"Right, well, I was five and there was a big fuss because the first child in the clan with magic for so long. I don't think I understood anything then, I just remember being confused because you set fire to the sail on an aravel and you _know_ the sails of an aravel shouldn't be on fire. A few years later another girl in the clan showed signs of magic, she was older than I was, just a few years."  
  
"Badb?"  
  
"Badb. I think she was almost sent away because it's better to have a gap between the First and Second."  
  
"I can't imagine wanting to teach two little children at the same time, probably pulling hair or ears, never listening or asking 'why' every other question because you certainly haven't grown out of that stage."  
  
"If I wasn't so comfortable I'd pull something."  
  
"Promises, promises but do continue."  
  
"Anyway, the reason we were told later is that as far back as anyone could remember in our clan, the First was older than the Second so that they could help to teach the Second so that one day they'd know how to be Keeper when the time came."  
  
"Makes sense, I know when I was younger I was expected to help to mentor some of the younger students, pass on my own knowledge, tips and tricks," Dorian agrees and Ghillie really needs to ask him more about the Circles in Tevinter. He knows shockingly little really given how much he's learned of the ones in the rest of Thedas but there's always so much about Tevinter he wants to know, usually the history and the magic and the overlaps of what Tevinter thinks of as theirs but Ghillie thinks of and knows as elven. After all, half the time he and Dorian go up to his room it's usually to have peace from Leliana's squawking crows to actually sit down and go through the books Dorian has highlighted as being of interest, all the research he does when Ghillie is trying to run Skyhold. "But you said that clans will send too many away, if you were so close in age..."  
  
"Badb's parents were dead. In some clans maybe that would make it easier, maybe that's how Minaeve's clan did it but she had no one else, we were her family so Keeper Deshanna taught us both at the same time. It wasn't about being a First or Second when we were that little, I suppose it's like anywhere, it's about making sure you're safe."  
  
"I once heard my mother complaining about the heat so I cast a rather powerful ice spell in her private study, ruined so many documents when the heat got to them anyway. I'll never forget the way she shouted, sounded like a cat that fell into a bath. Only the bath was full of demons."  
  
Ghillie laughs before he continues. "I used to get in so much trouble. Usually we're kept separate from the rest of the clan, I still lived with my parents until I was older and then it was Deshanna, Badb and I because some lessons went on very late. But our other friend, Eimhir, she's one of the best young hunters in our clan, she was always ready to steal us away. Pretending she'd found some ancient ruin or something one of us had to look at. I think Deshanna let us go so we could stay young. Half the time Eimhir wanted us to come it's because there were nests of spiders and spells were less messy than knives and arrows. Except that time we found out just how volatile spider venom can be, none of us came home looking pretty."  
  
"I suspect that's a story you're going to tell me one day and I'd rather wait until we're in Skyhold so I can push you out of your big comfy bed. No spider stories when they might crawl into the tent."  
  
"You're never going to let that go are you?"  
  
"Little spiders, fine. Waking up to a big one tapping on the tent with big hairy legs? No."  
  
"At least Sera got to confirm that no one needs to see Blackwall's arse." He deserves being flicked on the tip of the ear for that, no matter how much it stings. "Maybe one day you'll get to meet Eimhir, she'd like you. Badb would only want to talk to Solas, she liked spirit magic more than our Keeper was ever comfortable with."  
  
"That sort of magic isn't common amongst the Dalish? I confess that time with you and Solas has opened my eyes rather a lot regarding elven magic, as you've probably heard."  
  
"Spirits differ from one another, it's not the spirits against demons thing that everyone else seems to have."  
  
"So like Solas?"  
  
Ghillie laughs before he can stop himself, shaking his head before he folds his arms across Dorian's chest, resting his chin on them. "He might like us more then. No, we believe that there aren't good spirits, there's no such thing as a good one, there aren't categories, it's like people really but a spirit can do much more damage really."  
  
"There are exceptions, I'm sure."  
  
"Cole? I think Cole has always been somewhat of an exception in the first place but he's the longest I've been around a spirit. Badb taught herself a lot of spirit magic even when Deshanna protested that it wasn't our way, I used to leave during the arguments, I loved them both but why listen to the same argument for the hundredth time when I could have fun with the hunters until they noticed I was gone."  
  
"How much has your opinion on them changed then?"  
  
"Honestly? I have no idea. Everything is even more complicated than I ever thought, I don't even know how to classify being a rift mage now."  
  
"They'd disapprove of me."  
  
"Oh for five minutes, for the sake of appearances. Eimhir would tease you, Badb would want to know all about necromancy. The Keeper and my parents would give you a stern talking to about breaking my heart and how painfully they'd kill you, my father would give you one of those wooden halla he carves and my mother would go off and hunt down the biggest bear she could find so he'd make you one of his warm blankets, I wish I'd had room in my pack to bring one with me."  
  
"Sounds marvellous if I'm honest."  
  
They've strayed off topic but Ghillie doesn't care, it's good to talk about home and faces he' s missed, him and Badb complaining about Deshanna with the solidarity of apprentices, Eimhir telling him stories and defending him to the other hunters whenever she dragged him along or he came to observe ruins and collect whatever they found, always telling the hunters to be more careful. Covering for Badb and Eimhir when they shirked their duties to spend time together away from everyone else until one day they weren't together anymore. Badb always looked Eimhir's way though but Eimhir stopped looking back as anything more than a friend and he never asked why because he knew that Eimhir loved history and tradition the way he did. She wouldn't ever want the sort of change Badb wanted. But thinking about his parents, his father in particular, makes him laugh – he'd love Dorian, anyone that Ghillie cares about is loved by his father and he'd appreciate his wit.  
  
"When the Keeper decided I was leaving-" He begins, only for Dorian to cut in.  
  
"To spy?"  
  
"Yes to spy – why is that so amusing?"  
  
"Simply picturing you as a spy, you're more a lost little lamb."  
  
"That's hurtful. You know Varric looked rather cold, I'm sure he wouldn't protest-"  
  
"Don't you dare!" Dorian pulls Ghillie impossibly closer, a hand splayed out at the small of his back, rubbing gently. "I apologise for interrupting, please continue."  
  
"When the Keeper decided I was leaving, my father kept carving these wooden halla. We revere the halla – why do you think my name is Ghillie?"  
Dorian pauses for a moment before he smiles, bright in the dark. "Ghillie for Ghillan'nain then. He must craft with their antlers then."  
  
"One of the halla, the one on my desk? That's made of antlers. Elgarn'nan, every time I kept trying to pack I'd find he'd snuck more halla in there. There were others things too, foxes and wolves, owls and hawks, some rabbits, a little nug, most of them were all so small so I could put them in a pouch and carry them except for that one, I was so worried I wouldn't get it back, I don't think I'll ever know how to thank Leliana and Cassandra for that. It was mostly halla though. I thought I'd gotten rid of most of them before I left but once when I was getting dressed I stabbed myself in the arse with one that must've been bundled in my leggings. And don't make a joke!" He can tell without really looking that Dorian is thinking of a good one and he just knows that the next time him and Sera are together when they're out that it'll be Ghillie suffering their humour.  
  
"Did he make you that ring you always wear?"  
  
"This one?" Ghillie lifts his left hand, indicating the ring he wears on his middle finger and Dorian nods. "No, this ring is a First's ring, carved of sylvanwood."  
  
"The skill it must take to add all of that to it..."  
  
"It tells the story of Fen'harel and the betrayal. It is a Keeper's job to remember."  
  
"I see all the letters you write home with what we find, your clan will be all the richer for it, when everything is safer and settled."  
  
"There's so much I can tell them, I just hope that maybe when we beat this they'll make the journey to come to Skyhold, I want them to meet all of you and for all of you to meet them. And some stories are better told in person."  
  
Dorian cups his face in his hands, tilting it up for what Ghillie thinks will be a kiss but instead he uses his fingers and thumbs to follow the black lines of Ghillie's Vallaslin until he closes his eyes and presses his face into the touch with a small smile. Dorian is always so careful with what he touches unless Ghillie tells him otherwise, tracing the now-familiar patterns the same way he handles old books with cracked spines and paper as delicate as spider webs.  
  
"There's always so much I want to know about you, why have we never done this until now? Talked about where you come from, your friends and family, your teachers? I prattle on about myself and the Imperium-"  
  
"I always want to know about the Imperium-"  
  
It's normal for them to interrupt by now, to talk over one another at the end of sentences but usually it's about magic or theories about what they're dealing with, not this. "Well I should have asked."  
  
"You did, just now."  
  
"I should have asked before, instead it was Corypheus this, Alexius that-"  
  
Ghillie leans up to kiss him, awkward though it may be. "Ask away to your heart's content."  
  
Dorian is silent for a time, considering, regarding Ghillie the same way he studies the shelves of books in the library. "The tattoos then, your Vallaslin, it must have hurt surely? I can't imagine having someone with needles so close to my face."  
  
"We don't just go straight into it, there's meditation, preparation and focus and we do get to see the needles and have them close but none of it is meant to hurt. If hurts you actually stop because you aren't ready for it. When you're ready for it, it's like drawing inward to focus on a spell. Everything else melts away, like a trance almost." There's a smile on his face as he explains because he's proud of them, they're marks that show he's an adult and that he worked hard to earn them, now Dorian will understand why he enjoys having them touched so gently. "I felt like I was outside of my body when I did it; I had prayed and talked it over with the Keeper for so long to be ready and when it done I felt some pain but I accepted it. I knew it would be worth it and I didn't make a sound."  
  
"And when it was done?"  
  
"I felt right. I felt...it wasn't as if I'd felt like I was actively missing something before that but I looked at myself and I'd worried I'd look wrong but I didn't. I looked like me, like all the pieces had fallen into place. My gods would look at me and they would know who I was."  
  
"It sounds so wonderful to hear you speak of it, I feel ashamed for thinking it was something painful to be endured."  
  
"There are many things worth pain. Some of it physical, some of it otherwise. We need to go through it to be the people we need and want to be in the end." Dorian looks at him, holds his gaze and he's not smiling, not exactly, not when they both know what Ghillie is referring to but he nods, brushing his thumb over the lines inked just below Ghillie's lips. "They're for Dirthamen, the Keeper of Secrets."  
  
"I suppose that's what you are, isn't it? Or what you were training to be."  
  
"Dirthamen is the twin soul of Falon'Din, friend of the dead. He is the god of secrets and knowledge, he taught us loyalty and faith in our family because once two ravens, Fear and Deceit, tried to trick him. The first time he wandered from his brother, Fear spoke to him and said that he was lost and would fade and then Deceit added that Falon'Din had abandoned him. But Dirthamen did not believe. He subdued them and they had to carry him to his brother, bound to his service. There are other stories too, about secrets he told."  
  
"Will you tell me them one day? Not just Dirthamen but your other gods, your training, everything really I suppose."  
  
"Of course. You're part of my life Dorian, you can ask whatever you want and I'll tell you."  
  
"Remember what I told you about being politically astute?"  
  
Ghillie blows a raspberry against Dorian's bare chest until the other man yelps and shoves at him and honestly, tomorrow is going to be Ghillie and Dorian being teased or complained at for keeping everyone else awake when they're finding it hard enough to sleep in tents as it is but Ghillie doesn't care, apologising by kissing his way up Dorian's neck, linking their fingers together. He yawns because it's late and they've been talking for far too long, neither of them will want to get up in the morning, and his throat is dry but he's warm and content, and he can feel Dorian's heart beneath his ear as he settles in comfortably for the night, Dorian's hands still at his back and in his hair as he drifts off to a fond murmur of 'impossible fascinating creature' and he smiles.

**Author's Note:**

> Okay so this was really meant to be just a silly fic about Ghillie as a kid and then suddenly it turned into this thing. Anyway, in my headcanon, all my Dalish inquisitors exist but obviously they don't all go so the Eimhir mentioned is the one from my Eimhir/Blackwall fics from when she's inquisitor and one day I'll write about Badb.
> 
> Ghillie is actually named for Ghillie dhu, a Scottish solitary fairy but in universe it's in reference to Ghillan'nain like he says for his father's connection to the halla.  
> Eimhir is pronounced as EH-ver, Badb as BADH-uhv, the dh part sounds like 'th' as in 'the'; Eimhir is named for Emer, the wife of Cú Chulainn, possessor of the six gifts of womanhood (Eimhir's Vallaslin is for Sylaise) and Badb is named for Badb Catha, one of the trio making up The Morrígan and her name means crow (her Vallaslin is for Falon'Din as Badb is also associated with banshees)


End file.
